


Restraint

by Paia_Loves_Pie



Series: Soft Smut Sunday [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Love Confessions, M/M, Soft Smut Sunday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:14:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23377486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paia_Loves_Pie/pseuds/Paia_Loves_Pie
Summary: It was much too soon.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Series: Soft Smut Sunday [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1672735
Comments: 27
Kudos: 140
Collections: Soft Smut Sunday





	Restraint

The moment Greg eased his way inside, he knew he was in trouble. Mycroft’s body gripped him soft and hot and tight, threatening to send him right over the edge before they’d even got properly started. Panting, he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of Mycroft’s knee where it was draped over his shoulder, trying to catch his breath, stall for time. Mycroft’s legs were already shaking and impatient, curling against him to pull him in deeper. The sure hands gripping his biceps triggered a powerful caveman urge deep inside of him to just claim the man folded underneath him. Mark him. Keep him safe.  _ Christ _ , he’d just got in, but he couldn’t possibly hold on like this.  _ Oh _ , he wanted to come. His face flamed at the idea of embarrassing himself so quickly. 

Maybe if he closed his eyes...tried to focus...but that made everything  _ so much worse.  _ Now all his attention was focused on his dick, and it wasn’t helping. Even without his sight, his memory filled in the gaps. His Mycroft, arching against him with those long, elegant legs and lovely soft backside. His flushed cheeks. Those beautiful blue eyes, glazed over with want. A plush mouth, dropped open and panting, just begging to be kissed again. Greg moaned, desperate, as he gripped Mycroft’s hips tightly, begging him without words not to move. Just for a second. Just a moment more.  _ Please wait _ . 

When he regained control, he opened his eyes to see Mycroft’s grin, bright and cheeky, and his heart kicked in his chest.  _ Wow, _ he thought.  _ Gorgeous.  _ Then Greg realized with chagrin that Mycroft knew  _ exactly _ why he’d stopped, and he smiled back with a blush.

_ I love you _ , the words solidified in his mind as he began his slow push forward again.  _ God _ ,  _ I love you so much, you beautiful creature. _

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so gorgeous,” he said instead, with a deliberate grind of his hips, pressing deeper. Mycroft arched his head backward into the pillow, breathing deep, clearly luxuriating in the sensation of Greg’s cock sliding lazily in and out. Torturously slow. Excruciating.

_ I love you, _ came the words again as he reached down to capture Mycroft’s lips in a wet, drawn out kiss.  _ Stunning like this. _ Mycroft moaned into his mouth as Greg continued his leisurely pace. Greg could hang on, as long as they kept it easy like this. Gentle.

“I love you,” he said as they drew apart, the words tripping out of his mouth too quickly to catch and stuff them back in. 

Instantly, his heart leapt into his throat, muscles turning to stone as he realized what he’d done. He gripped Mycroft’s hips tighter in his panic - too tight. It was too soon -  _ much _ too soon. And of course Greg had blurted it out at the  _ worst _ possible time. He wanted to close his eyes again, fearing to see Mycroft’s expression. Christ, he should kick himself. How crass to confess your love to a bloke for the first time while you’re six inches deep. Something only the worst sort of unromantic arseholes did.

Mycroft’s gaze was razor-sharp on his face. His mouth had dropped open in surprise - a quick intake of breath. Then his face softened as slowly, Mycroft’s arms gathered him close. His legs dropped from Greg’s shoulders and settled instead around his waist, arms pulling him closer until a slight nudge of the nose settled their lips together. Greg was frantic, pouring his soul into the kiss - his apology for the timing, but not for the sentiment. 

It was too soon, he knew. But in the midst of his panic was also relief. Greg wasn’t a man who enjoyed keeping secrets. Restraining himself had weighed on him, always making sure he wasn’t too much, too strong, too soon all at once. Now he felt as though he’d confessed a crime, guilty, but not sorry. But  _ damn _ the delivery could have been better. Greg would make it up to him. Tell him every day. All the time. Make him happy. Eventually it would balance out.

Mycroft met him kiss for kiss, gentling Greg’s frenetic approach into a leisurely back and forth. His lips were soft against Greg’s. Long fingers smoothed through his hair, brushing it back from his face. They traveled over his back, his shoulders, easing down his tension.

“I’m sorry I said it like that,” he whispered when they finally parted. “Could have done that better, I know. You deserve better. But I’m not sorry that I said it. Meant every word, beautiful.”

“Don’t apologize, my Gregory. You love me, and I love you.” His face transformed with a sudden smug smile. “Darling, I’m surprised you managed so long - It’s been written on your face for weeks. I feel it in your hands when we touch. It’s in every cup of tea you make for me.” 

It should have felt awkward, this untimely coitus interruptus - Greg’s erection had wilted a bit in the face of his panic - but being held close like this, heart to heart, couldn’t have felt more like home. He buried his face into Mycroft’s neck, and if his face was a bit damp, well. No one would tell. He nuzzled the soft, warm skin there, pressing grateful kisses to Mycroft’s collarbone as they stilled, content in their embrace. 

Mycroft’s skin was salty with sweat, and Greg sneaked a taste, surprised at the quiet groan that sounded deep in Mycroft’s chest. The noise fed the primal part of Greg’s brain as he realized that Mycroft’s cock was still thick between them. Everything felt brighter and clearer now, like breathing fresh air for the first time. Mycroft stirred a little against him, his hips hitching the smallest bit. The smell of Mycroft’s body, the feel of him so close reawakened Greg’s desire.

Greg eased forward again slowly, just a bit to relieve the urge, to give Mycroft what he wanted. He captured Mycroft’s lips in another soft kiss. Mycroft moaned into his mouth and snaked a hand down between them to grasp his cock, stroking in little movements. That steady little nudging against his abdomen and the hot breath on his face kicked Greg’s arousal right back up to the tipping point, cock hardening again quickly enough that it was uncomfortable. Mycroft was tight - they didn’t do this much, often preferring the soft warmth of each other’s mouths, or slow hands in the morning. 

A high whine escaped him as he drew back and started up a rhythm that he just knew wouldn’t last. But he couldn’t help it. His body wanted more of Mycroft, and Mycroft wanted more of him - loved him. The thought tipped him over the edge before he was ready, his release arriving all too soon as Mycroft squirmed desperately on his cock. 

Mycroft’s fist was still furiously rubbing, knuckles dragging against Greg’s stomach. The tight, fast strokes just under the head were clearly aiming to get him off quickly. Greg eased out gently against Mycroft’s protests and wriggled down the bed, pushing his hand away and replacing it with his mouth, wet and greedy. Mycroft cried out and threaded his fingers into Greg’s hair, pressing his face closer. The scrabbling fingers in his hair drove Greg crazy. He relaxed his throat and petted Mycroft’s sides as his lover’s noises grew loud and frantic. Mycroft’s toes scrunched against the bed as he came, loud and magnificent in Greg’s hands. 

He swallowed like a gentleman and crawled up Mycroft’s body to press soft kisses into his belly. 

“I love you,” he said again, resting his cheek over his kisses, breathing deep. Free. 


End file.
